Weak.
Terrified.
Unraveling.
Blake came to an abrupt stop, but kept his gun pointed directly at him.
“Now put the gun down,” Josiah demanded, dragging Ariana back a few steps, his face scrunching up.
I tore my gaze from Ariana, noticing a pool of blood at Josiah’s feet. I followed it, seeing blood trickling from his leg, soaking into the fabric near his knee. It seemed that Blake had managed to clip him. That must be how he’d lost control of his gun.
“You don’t have to do this,” Blake argued calmly. “She’s innocent.”
“Put. It Down,” Josiah barked, pressing the blade harder against Ariana’s throat, a thin line of blood appearing beneath the knife.
“Okay. Okay. I’m putting it down.” Blake lowered the gun to the floor.
“Kick it over,” Josiah demanded.
Blake did as he requested, kicking the gun out of his reach. When it came to a stop by the altar, Josiah smiled. But it wasn’t the peaceful smile from before.
This one was wild. Crazed. Frantic.
“Take it easy,” Blake said cautiously. “Nobody else needs to get hurt.”
“You trespassed on holy ground,” Josiah hissed, his eyes darting around the room like a cornered animal. “This sanctuary exists to protect these women from men like you.”
“Men like me?” Blake echoed, arching a single brow.
“She was broken before I found her,” he spat, tightening his grip around Ariana. “All of them were. Used. Defiled. Poisoned by sin. Tormented by men like you.”
My stomach twisted in disgust, but Blake remained calm.
After all, he’d heard all of this before.
He’d lived this before.
He knew exactly what to say to placate him. To buy me time to figure out how to get us out of this.
How to get Ariana and Sarah to safety.
I strained harder against the ties cutting into my wrists, the plastic biting deeper into my flesh with every movement. But I felt them beginning to give.
“Holding these women prisoner does not make you a savior,” Blake stated evenly, discreetly moving closer to the altar, inch by excruciating inch. “It makes you exactly like the men you claim you’re protecting them from.”
“You know nothing about salvation,” Josiah sneered, continuing to back up with Ariana, pressing the knife even harder against her.
“Maybe not. But I know fear. And you reek of it. Do you want to know what you’re terrified of?”
Josiah didn’t respond. Simply looked around the chapel nervously.
“You’re terrified all of these women will soon realize you’re just another man hurting them. That everything you’ve told them is a lie. A way to control and manipulate them.”
“They were given paradise!” he bellowed. “Safety! Purpose! Love!”
“I don’t know about you, but punishing someone for whatever failings you find on that particular day doesn’t sound like love to me. It sounds like control. Manipulation. Possession.”
“That’s because your brain has been poisoned,” Josiah spat.
